


You Needed Me

by benedictedcumberbatched



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Heartbreak, Love Confessions, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictedcumberbatched/pseuds/benedictedcumberbatched
Summary: Prompt fill: mizjoely and strangelock221b on tumblr both asked for a song fic to Anne Murray's "You Needed Me."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts), [Strangelock221b](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Strangelock221b).



> All recognizable quotes are the property of the BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss.
> 
> The song lyrics to "You Needed Me" are the property of Anne Murray.

_I cried a tear, you wiped it dry_  
I was confused, you cleared my mind  
I sold my soul, you bought it back for me  
And held me up and gave me dignity  
Somehow you needed me 

“What do you need?” she asked him again, her voice soft, her eyes wary.

He took a step toward her, into the light, her light. His eyes wide and pupils dilated. “You.”

She was truly his guardian angel, if he believed in such nonsense. She was the mastermind behind his success. He wouldn’t be who he was without her assistance and constant presence. Here he was again, lying on her sofa taking up all the space while she sat on the coffee table with a bowl of warm water and a towel soaking. 

“Is he really gone?” she asked again.

Sherlock turned his face toward her. “Yes, he is. By now the police should have found his body on the rooftop. I didn’t kill him, in case you were wondering. I’m a sociopath, not a psychopath,” he replied quietly.

“Oh. Good to know then,” she said picking the towel out of the water and wrung it out, the water draining over her hands. She reached out and began to clean off the blood from his face. “You know Sherlock, I wish you wouldn’t say you’re a sociopath. Psychologists don’t use that term anymore. Nor are you one. You feel, deeply, you just choose to ignore it,” she said into the silence between them.

Sherlock watched her face, blinking rapidly a couple of times before reaching out and gently grasping her wrist to stop her ministrations. He removed the towel from her hand before using a clean part of the sweatshirt he now wore to dry her hand. “You see me, Molly Hooper,” he said hoarsely before raising her open palm to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss there.

_You gave me strength to stand alone again_  
To face the world out on my own again  
You put me high upon a pedestal  
So high that I could almost see eternity  
You needed me, you needed me 

“You’re not being John, you’re being yourself.”

“Because the one person he thought didn’t matter at all to me was the one person who mattered the most. But you can’t do this again can you?”

Molly twisted her engagement ring around her finger, her lips pressed tight together. She hated that she felt guilty for spending the entire day with Sherlock. Sherlock was her friend, she shouldn’t feel guilty for spending time with a friend. 

“I’ve had a lovely day. It’s just…”

“Congratulations by the way.”

She winced at his tone. Why did he sound as pained as she felt? After his false death and her role in it, he had told her before he left that she should live her life as normal as possible. So when Tom came into her life she allowed herself to move on, to push the only man she had ever considered settling down for to the back of her mind and to focus on the man who found her appealing. After spending a day with Sherlock, not talking about the latest rugby, or having a pint with his mates instead of hers, or walking his dog when she really was more of a cat person after all, it surprised Molly that she had forgotten what true happiness felt like. She had been pretending to be happy for so long that she had convinced herself everything was normal. But Molly Hooper didn’t do normal. Sherlock made her feel as if she could stand on her own, that she was special enough to be needed by him whenever he needed her. SHe had her own pedestal in his life and she would be damned if she was going to give it up.

Until he put her on the back foot. “I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths.” he said.

“No?” she almost whispered.

“No,” his smile sad, why was his smile sad? He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, so close to the edge of her lips. She closed her eyes and held her breath, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as he drew back. She opened her eyes as he walked away, watching him walk through the door without a backward glance.

“Maybe it’s just my type,” she said to the closing door and empty hallway before following him out into the snow.

_And I can't believe it's you I can't believe it's true_  
I needed you and you were there  
And I'll never leave, why should I leave, I'd be a fool   
'Cause I finally found someone who really cares 

Ther verbal lashing she gave him in the back of that ambulance was enough to make any sane man get down on both knees and beg for forgiveness. However, he was not any man, particularly when he was high off his ass. Ever since he got back from his temporary exile they had been skating around each other. They never quite got back on stable footing when she first slapped him for falling off the wagon. He watched her tie the rubber tourniquet above his elbow before poking around for a good vein, not that there were many to come by. He winced as she stuck the needle in the crook of his elbow to draw blood for a test he knew would come back positive. “You could be more gentle, Doctor Hooper,” he drawled, giving her a stare he knew had made her melt in the past.

She didn’t so much as raise her eyes to meet his as she pressed medical tape over the needle in his arm in order to draw the blood before sticking the vial to the end of it. “You could stop trying to kill yourself. I’ve seen you dead once, Sherlock, that was plenty for me,” she replied coldly as she untied the tourniquet around his arm with one hand.

There was something in the way she moved around with the medical equipment as if it were completely second nature that caused something to stir in his stomach. “You’ve kept me from actually being dead more times than you know, Molly. You...I won’t leave you.”

Molly removed the needle and vial of blood for testing, pressing a small piece of gauze over the spot to stop the bleeding before taping it down. She looked at him quickly before turning her back to him. “You’re only saying that because you’re high.”

Walking past him, she threw open the ambulance doors and pointed. “Go. John will look after you now.”

_You held my hand when it was cold_  
When I was lost, you took me home  
You gave me hope when I was at the end  
And turned my lies back into truth again  
You even called me friend 

“Molly, this is for a case. It’s...it’s a sort of experiment.”

“I’m not an experiment, Sherlock.”

“No, I know you’re not an experiment,” he said quickly, panicked he would lose her to his stupidity. “You’re my friend. We’re friends. But...please. Just...say those words for me.”

Watching her grapple with the pain he was inflicting on her, he hated himself for being forced into this. He had done so many things to her over the years, used her feelings for him to his advantage and against her, but this, this manipulation and using their friendship to achieve what? 

“Please, just say it.”

“I can’t. Not to you.”

“Why?”

“Because...because it’s true. Because it’s true, Sherlock.” She’s crying. Sherlock feels his heart hammering in his throat. Fear, true fear courses through him. Fear, hatred, desperation…”It’s _always_ been true.”

“Well, if it’s true, just say it anyway.” He hates the monotone quality to his voice, hates that he’s burying himself again.

“You bastard.” She’s right of course. He is a bastard for doing this to her. He, the one who told her she deserved to be happy, the one who told her she mattered most, was dragging her through hell with him.

“Say it anyway,” he almost demands, careful to keep his voice calm. He can’t give Eurus anymore leverage.

“ _You_ say it. Go on. You say it first.”

Sherlock’s mind grinds to a halt, his heart skips a beat. She can’t be serious. “What?”

“Say it. Say it like you mean it.”

Panic chokes him. “I--I…” he doesn’t know what to do. He has never, in his memory, said those words before. His tongue feels swollen in his mouth as he scrambles to figure out what to do. “I love you,” he says.

Realization lights up his eyes. He feels breathless. How had he never grasped this before? His voice softens as he stares at the television screen before him showing Molly in her kitchen, clutching her mobile to her ear as if she was afraid to miss a single moment. “I love you.” There was no going back now. 

_You gave me strength to stand alone again_  
To face the world out on my own again  
You put me high upon a pedestal  
So high that I could almost see eternity  
You needed me, you needed me  
You needed me, you needed me 

Sherlock sits on her sofa, her capable and strong hands held between his, the day after Sherrinford. He tells her everything from the beginning. She stays silent throughout, only turning her hands around in his to hold his when he gets to Victor Trevor and Eurus role in his best friend’s disappearance and murder. He appreciates her silent presence, giving him the opportunity to take time to gather his thoughts. 

“Despite what Eurus made me do to you Molly, there was a moment, right before I said it a second time, that I realized that it was true. I do love you, Molly Hooper. Somehow, you made your way to my heart that I had worked so hard to close off to the rest of the world, but you made it there and wouldn’t leave,” he said facing her.

Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears as she absorbed what he said. “You really mean it,” she replied quietly, her voice hoarse. 

He released her hands and raised one hand to cradle the side of her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek. “I do. I love you, Molly Hooper, and you’ll probably never know or realize how much I need you. I’ve told John before that he keeps me right, but you keep me human.”


End file.
